


Bullet Journal Blues

by UniqueChimera



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Abandoned WIP, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Caroline/Elena was going to be endgame, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, bullet journals, some characters are very different especially Elena, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25286605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniqueChimera/pseuds/UniqueChimera
Summary: This is an abandoned attempt to fix The Vampire Diaries. Figured I would post it - let me know what you think!
Relationships: Bonnie Bennett/Damon Salvatore, Caroline Forbes/Elena Gilbert, Elena Gilbert/Stefan Salvatore
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	Bullet Journal Blues

Age had matured Bree’s beauty. She had grown into her longish nose, and the laugh lines around her mouth and eyes lent her face a certain wisdom. It was a wisdom that Damon’s ageless face would never wear, but he didn’t mind. Chicks hated wrinkles.

“What can I get you, Damon?”

He grinned. “Whiskey, neat.”

“Of course.” She grabbed a glass and started rummaging through the bottles. Damon took a moment to survey the bar. It was almost overflowing with people, its oak floor scuffed by the shoes of past patrons. 

“You’ve done well for yourself,” he said.

“Are you surprised?”

“No.” He’d always known that she could handle herself. “I didn’t think you’d own a bar, though. Didn’t you study accounting?”

“You remember.”

“Of course.” He leaned against the counter and smiled in that way he knew women liked. “I always had to pull you away from those textbooks.”

Bree snorted. “You certainly did. I can do my own books now, so I guess it paid off.”

“Beauty and brains.” Damon grinned, looking like a cat who had just caught a sparrow. “I love that in a woman.”

She slid his whisky across the counter. “Flirting won’t get you anywhere.”

Damon took a sip. “What will?” 

“Tell me why you’re here. I know this isn’t a social call.” 

Damon pouted. “I’m hurt, Bree! Here I am, patronizing your lovely bar, drinking your whisky—which, might I add, is magnificent—” 

“I’m not stupid, Damon. You only visit when you want something.” Bree crossed her arms. “What is it this time? Do you need me to enchant something? Is your brother—” 

Damon knocked back his whisky and took a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. He held it out to her. She took it.

“Do you know where this is?”

“Emily’s necklace? If I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.” She met his eyes. “You need to get over her, Damon.”

“Come on, Bree, don’t be like that.” 

He let his humanity slip away, felt himself become dead, dead, dead as his eyes began to spark and ache. That’s one thing they never told you about compulsion: it hurt like a bitch.

“Tell me,” he said. The compulsion made his voice honey-sweet. His pupils grew and shrunk, and once Bree was under his spell hers would— 

Her pupils hadn’t budged.

“I’ve been taking vervain since I dumped you, you idiot.” 

She set her hands on the counter and started to chant in a forgotten language. The counter groaned and shook. Rough nubs of wood jutted out from the side. They grew into thick, gnarled branches that reached for Damon like grasping hands. He leaped into the air, his dark hair brushing the brassy lamp bolted to the ceiling. He landed behind the counter in a flawless crouch—of course—but several liquor bottles shuddered from the force of his feet hitting the floor. With a smirk he whirled and gripped her throat. He lifted her off the ground. She choked, eyes bulging. The bar’s customers stared at them, drinks and dancing forgotten. 

“Tell. Me.”

She thrashed in his grip. “The Bennets. Sheila. She—”

Damon dropped her. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” He fished a 20 out of his pocket and dropped it on the counter. “Keep the change.”

“Damon.” Bree leaned on the counter, rubbing her throat. “This won’t help.”

He smirked. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Bonnie Bennet dropped the wrapping paper she had crushed and picked the journal up. It was a dark maroon that reminded her of dried blood. She opened it and found that the pages were the color and texture of white chocolate.

“It’s very nice,” she said.

Caroline clapped like a seal, blonde curls bouncing. “I’m so glad you like it!” she said. “I wasn’t sure if burgundy was your color, but it fits your aesthetic so well!” She opened up her own journal to a to-do list with yesterday’s date on it. Each item on the to-do list was written in flowing script and crossed out with a ruler-straight line. Bonnie could make out the phrases “buy washi tape” and “get herbal bath bombs in Atlanta,” but there were so many curlicues in the handwriting it was hard to tell. The date looked like it was made up of calligraphy letters inked in violet.

“Now we can match!” Caroline said. “And you, me, and Elena can make indexes together, and we’ll be so organized in college!” She pushed the second part of her gift into Bonnie’s hands, which were the color of acorns. It was a black book whose gold lettering said ‘The Bullet Journal Method.’ “It’s so great,” Caroline said. “It’ll teach you everything you need to know. I promise.”

“Wow. Thanks.” Bonnie pointed at the wrapped gift next to Caroline. “Is that Elena’s?”

Caroline glanced at the book. She pursed her lips. “Yeah.”

“Let’s go give it to her,” Bonnie said. She picked Elena’s gift up. “She could probably use the company.”

“Um.” Caroline looked at Bonnie with wide, worried eyes. “Are you sure you know where she is?”

 _Of course I do,_ Bonnie thought. _So do you._

“Yeah,” she said. “Come on. She’d love to see you.”

“I can’t, Bonnie.” Caroline said. “I’d love to, but I have practice.”

Bonnie fought the urge to scowl. “I’m sure you could spare an hour, Caroline. It won’t take long.” 

“No, Bonnie, you don’t understand—”

“What don’t I understand?” Bonnie stood up. Normally she had to look up to meet Caroline’s eyes—she was a full head taller than Bonnie. Now, with Caroline sitting on the floor, Bonnie towered over her. 

“My mom’s worried. Those animal attacks—”

“I know about the attacks, Caroline. Your mom tells my grandmother about them all the damn time. Your mom’s on patrol, that new guy’s on patrol—we won’t all die if you miss a night, okay? Elena needs you.” _Like I needed you_.

“That’s not fair,” Caroline said. Her eyes had started to shine with tears. “You can’t judge me just because I can still help and you can’t.”

Bonnie grabbed her bag and strode towards the door.

“Bonnie—”

“See you tomorrow, Caroline.” 

The door creaked when she closed it. She threw herself into the driver’s seat of the car and slammed the door shut.

God. Why did she even bother? Caroline hadn’t changed one bit in the last ten years. Bonnie had been stupid to think she would change now. 

She sighed and jammed her key into the ignition. By some miracle, her car, a silvery Oldsmobile that was older than she was, started without complaint. She backed out of Caroline’s wide, coal-black driveway and onto Dearing Street. For a while she lost herself in the beauty of autumn in full fire. That was one of the best things about Mystic Falls: it embraced its seasons. It would be nice to experience them for four more years, but it would have been nicer to leave and feel another town’s fall breeze on her skin. For a little while she could have been a normal girl.

Oh, well. At least the engineering program was good.

When she pulled up to the cemetery, she had to squint to see the entrance. Fog shrouded the gates and the headstones littering the ground. Only one other car was in the parking lot: a familiar, pristine black Mercedes-Benz. Elena’s car. Bonnie parked next to it and grabbed Elena’s gift. She zipped her jacket up - it was chillier than she had expected. As she walked through the fog, she heard ravens cawing and felt her sneakers become damp as they soaked up dew and rainwater from lush grass.

She rounded a corner and came face to face with three marble headstones. They towered over her, piercing the cloudy sky with their silver-tipped points. Bonnie laid her hand against one of them and took a moment to remember the people they commemorated. She had put up with the Gilberts for Elena’s sake, but she had never really liked them —they had never seemed to approve of her. None of them had deserved to die, especially not 16 year old Jeremy.

Elena was on the other side of the headstones. She was sitting in the grass, and Bonnie could hear her pen scratching as she scribbled in a coffee-stained notebook.

“Hey, Elena,” Bonnie said. Elena looked up at her and stopped scribbling. Bonnie sat next to her, setting Caroline’s present beside Mr. Gilbert’s headstone. Elena leaned her head on her shoulder.

“Hey,” Elena said. She closed the diary. Her long chestnut hair tickled Bonnie’s nose.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Elena took a breath. “I just—I wish they could have been at the ceremony.” She wiped her cheeks, which were flushed from the chill. “He—they would have been so proud, you know?”

“I know,” Bonnie said. She wrapped an arm around Elena and held her as she cried. Jeremy had submitted a short film to the American Film Festival for Youth, and two days ago it had been a finalist for the grand prize.

“He would have been great,” Elena said through the tears. “He would’ve won Oscars.”

Bonnie stroked Elena’s hair. Tears soaked her shoulder.

“He deserves a funeral,” Elena said.

“He does.”

“They want to call off the search,” Elena said. “Sheriff Forbes wants me to do closed casket, but—”

“It’s not right,” Bonnie said.

Elena looked up at Bonnie, her eyes like the dark wine they used to sneak out of her parents’ wine cellar. “Does it get better?”

“Not really.” 

“Oh.” Elena looked away. “How’s Caroline doing?”

“She’s Caroline.” Bonnie held the gift out to Elena. “She got this for you.”

Elena shredded the wrapping with black-painted fingernails, revealing a Pepto Bismol pink notebook and a copy of _The Bullet Journal Method._

Elena smiled. It was the first time Bonnie had seen her smile since her family had died. She opened the notebook and rubbed a page between her thumb and forefinger. 

“Katherine?”

It was a man’s voice, a little low and a bit rough. Bonnie looked up. He loomed over them. Black jeans brushed the tops of his leather shoes. An unzipped leather jacket covered the sleeves of a tight black t-shirt. His eyes were the color of a frozen lake, and they were fixed on Elena. His catlike face bore a mixture of shock and longing.

Bonnie glanced at Elena, who was frowning in confusion. She turned to face the man, clutching Elena a little tighter. “Who the hell are you?” she asked.

The man didn’t seem to hear her. He reached out to Elena and took a step towards them. Elena shrank away from him, curling into Bonnie’s arms.

Bonnie scowled and stood up, pulling Elena to her feet. All the emotions that had been boiling in her for the past seven years exploded into her chest. She could almost taste them in the back of her throat: resentment that had long since curdled into something sour, piquant fear and rage that had transcended heat. The grass under her feet screamed in sympathy, and behind her Jeremy’s headstone rumbled and groaned. Her anger was theirs and theirs was hers. The boundaries between herself and the rest of the world crumbled, and she felt herself become one with the ground and the trees and the air. 

“Stop,” she said, and the Earth spoke with her.

The man fell to the ground, clutching his head. His yell seemed to cut through the fog. He started to convulse. His eyes snapped open, and Bonnie saw that the whites of his eyes had become blood red, and his irises were almost white. 

Bonnie felt sick. She knew what he was, and she knew that she had to get Elena away from him.

“Elena, get help.”

“But—”

“Go!”

She ran, dialing 911 on her phone. Bonnie’s knees wobbled, and she tumbled onto the grass. Her legs felt weak. She did not think she could sit up, let alone stand. The Earth was embracing her with welcoming arms. She leaned into it, sinking into the world that had borne her and would now reclaim her.

Something cold and smooth closed around her wrist. It pulled her out of the Earth’s hold. Time, which had lost its meaning in the arms of the Earth, had kickstarted. Her heart, which had finally found rest, began to beat to the juddering rhythm of a jackhammer.

“You can’t die yet, witch.” It was the man. His pupils, so dark against the white of his irises, shrunk and expanded. Long fangs popped out of his gums and slotted into place in front of his canines. “Tell me where the necklace is.”

As if from far away, Bonnie heard something go _thunk._ The man blinked. His blood vessels smoothed out and lightened. A dark stain blossomed on his right thigh.

His head whipped around. Caroline was standing before them, her pastel purple crossbow aimed at the man’s heart. She grabbed a stake from the quiver at her back and reloaded.

“Go away!” She said. Her shrill voice cut through the fog. “Or I’ll shoot!”

He gave her a greasy smile. “I don’t think so,” he said. His pupils started to contract again. “Why don’t you—”

“Shut up!” Caroline was shaking. Bonnie couldn’t tell if it was from rage or fear. 

The man scowled. “This fucking town.” He got to his feet and hobbled away. 

Caroline kept her crossbow aimed at the man as he walked away. Once she could no longer see him, she ran to Bonnie. She knelt by her side and tugged on her upper body until her head was in Caroline’s lap.

“God, Bonnie.” Caroline smoothed Bonnie’s hair away from her damp forehead. “Are you okay?”

Bonnie’s chest twitched with her giggles. “Caroline,” she said. Her voice was thin. “It’s back.”

Caroline frowned. She pressed her fingers into the side of Bonnie’s neck. Her pulse was strong but irregular, though Caroline could feel it getting steadier. Her pupils had swallowed her hazel irises, and in their depths Caroline saw pinpricks of emerald. 

Oh. 

Caroline fumbled with her phone, dialling a number with clumsy fingers. She held it between her cheek and her shoulder as she pulled Bonnie closer to her.

“Hi! Mrs. Bennett, um, Bonnie’s magic is back and she—”

Elena raced into Caroline’s field of vision, three paramedics behind her with a stretcher.

“Yeah, um, there’s an ambulance here, should I—” Caroline listened for a moment and nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you at the hospital, I guess.” 

Mrs. Sheila Bennett never went anywhere without at least three necklaces and five bracelets, all dripping with quartz in fifteen different colors. For a Bennett witch, this was practical—she found her deepest connection with Earth through what lay beneath her feet, and keeping pieces of it on her body strengthened that connection.

Coupled with the caftan Sheila liked to wear, most people who met her couldn’t help but find her a little kooky. Not that she minded. Witches were at their best when they were underestimated.

Sheila sat next to Bonnie’s hospital bed. “Thank you for calling me,” she said.

Caroline shifted in her plastic chair. She nodded and smiled, looking a little queasy. Poor thing had never been one for witchcraft. Next to her, Elena waved. The girl had no idea what she was, or what Caroline did in the evenings. As far as she knew, Sheila Bennett was a nice old lady who sold healing crystals. 

Well, she wasn’t wrong. Sheila pressed an eyeball-sized salt crystal into Bonnie’s palm and closed her fingers around it. As her own fingers closed around Bonnie’s fist, she closed her eyes and felt for Bonnie. She had mostly returned to herself, which was good—most witches who became one with the Earth could never return to their own bodies. Bonnie just needed a bit of a nudge to fully inhabit herself. Sheila gripped Bonnie’s fist and pushed.

Bonnie started coughing. She opened her eyes. “Grams?”

“I’m here, honey. Do you remember your grounding exercises?”

“A little.”

“Okay. Let’s do one together.”

They both closed their eyes. Bonnie took deep breaths, listening to Sheila’s soft, murmured instructions. Caroline and Elena watched from the other side of Bonnie’s hospital bed. 

“How was archery practice?” Elena asked.

“Um. Fine?” Caroline tried to grin. “I hit something today!”

“Oh, cool!” Elena turned so that she could face Caroline. “What did you hit?”

“A tree?”

Elena nodded. Her eyes met Caroline’s, and her expression was more serious.“Hey, thanks for coming to see me.”

Caroline blinked. “What?”

“I know I haven’t been around much, with—” Elena looked away. “With everything. But it was nice of you to leave archery practice early and stop by.”

“Um.” Caroline’s smile was a little too wide to be genuine. “No problem!”

Elena gave a small smile in return. She took Caroline’s hand in her own and squeezed. “Every little bit helps, okay? You don’t need to worry about not doing enough.” 

“Okay,” Caroline said. She opened her mouth. “Elena, I—” 

“Excuse me?” Everyone looked up. A nurse with sky blue hair curling around the nape of their neck stood in the doorway. “You’re free to go. Dr. Fleming cleared you.”

Sheila smiled. Bonnie crawled out of the bed and stood up.

“Do we need to do anything?” she asked.

The nurse shook their head. “Don’t exert yourself for a couple days, and drink plenty of fluids. Otherwise you should be fine.”

Bonnie grinned. “Thank you so much.”

The nurse smiled back. “No problem!”

Caroline got up, her hand disentangling from Elena’s. “Do you need anything?”

“We’ll be alright,” Sheila said. She slung Bonnie’s bag over her shoulder.

“Thanks, guys. See you tomorrow,” Bonnie said. Elena smiled and waved goodbye. Caroline hesitated for a moment and copied her. 

“We need to get my car,” Bonnie said as they left the hospital. “It’s still at the cemetery.”

“That’s fine,” Sheila said. They got into Sheila’s car, a chocolate-colored Pontiac sedan. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Bonnie said. She could still feel the trees and the Earth underneath the road, but their call was less insistent.

“Good.” Sheila turned onto Clark Street, one of Mystic Falls’ main roads. Bonnie’s sense of the natural world dulled as they passed the pharmacy and the Mystic Grill. The grass here felt cowed, the breeze that slipped through the window, wary. Nature and industry tended to regard each other with a healthy suspicion.

“We’ll need to practice grounding until you have the knack for it again. Do you have time before your shifts?”

“I have class before my shifts, Grams.”

“We’ll do it after, then.” 

“Okay.” She pressed her head against the window. They were about to pass Mystic Falls First Methodist. At the next intersection, they’d be at the cemetery.

“Good thing it was a vampire you met.”

Bonnie turned to look at her grandmother. 

“They suck the life out of things, Bon, and you have too much life. That’s why you can talk to the Earth like that.” Here she snapped her fingers. “Now if it was a werewolf that caught you, you would have been in trouble.”

“Good thing we don’t have werewolves.”

Sheila turned into the cemetery’s parking lot. “Don’t be so sure.” She parked right next to Bonnie’s car, which despite the chaos appeared unscathed. Elena’s car was gone; she and Caroline must have picked it up.

“I’ll see you at home, alright?” Sheila said.

Bonnie nodded. “Thanks, Grams.”

Sheila grinned. “Anytime, sweetheart.” She slid into the driver’s seat and backed out of the parking lot.

Bonnie got into her car and did the same. She spent the drive home lost in thought, wondering how college would be now that there were definitely vampires on the loose.


End file.
